A Piece of My Reality

I just made it home from sitting and chatting on top of a HUGE hill with some volunteer friends, taking in the beautiful view, and talking about any and everything that came to mind.  Language class was over at 3:30, but it was nice to just get away for a while and be myself.  I say "be myself" because it's as if we (the volunteers) are living in a fish bowl.  I know I've heard a million times before that I would be watched like a hawk out here, but I never imagined it would be to this extreme.  It's tough to not ever have a moment of down time.  I have to smile at everyone, say hi to everyone, wave at everyone; I spend every waking moment with my host family and if I'm not with them, I'm spending time learning the culture and why it's okay to do this and why it's not okay to do that.  This is definitely culture overload, and yes, I'm beginning to feel a little bit of the shock.  My brain is so full with new words and phrases, new names (which I can't even pronounce half of the time), and cultural rules and norms.  It's not necessarily hard, and it certainly isn't impossible, but I am feeling a sense of exhaustion; and many of the other volunteers are too.

One thing I do find humorous about being in a fish bowl, though, is that

everyone passing by just seems to stare at me with this blank, 'what are you' stare.  Even when I'm with other volunteers, the children and even their parents look at me as if I'm an alien.  It's like they think 'her hair is like ours, but her skin is different.  She sounds just like us when she speaks, but she is not from here.'  It's a daunting stare that I get too...it's hard to explain.  It's like their bodies just freeze and they turn their heads as I walk by.  Their face is completely expressionless; just a blank stare.  One of the volunteers joked around and said that when they see me it's like they turn into the walking dead.  They just look at me in wonderment and try to figure out in their heads, which of the village women slept with a white man to produce me.  haha! I crack up every time he says that!

So far, I've only been sharing my good experiences and many of my firsts.  However, things have not been all gold.  I have cried myself to sleep a couple of nights, I have had to push myself through to the end of the day, I have felt alone, different, like I don't fit in...and not to mention, I have only been here for about two weeks.  I guess it's better that I feel all of these things now though so that I'll know how to deal with the feelings later.  But regardless of how good or bad my days may go, I still pray to God at the end of the day and each morning, thanking Him for this experience.  I know that the next day is always a new day and that whatever it is I am struggling with at the moment, is just for that moment; better things are to come.  I miss my mom.  I miss my sister.  I miss my stepdad.  I miss Demetrious.  I miss my friends.  I miss brownies and ice cream.  I miss fried chicken.  I miss shrimp fried rice.  I miss talking on the phone late into the night.  I miss movie nights with my girls.  I miss hollering at my parrot to stop squawking so I can take a nap.  I miss snuggling up close to my sister and her whining until I move.  I miss being able to walk down the street unnoticed.  I miss home.  I really, really miss being home.

Love and Peace Corps,

Dametreea




(Written on 5/23/12 at 6:02pm)